A Late Evening Appointment With Mr Fate Himself
by shigurefan101
Summary: Okay so we had to write a journal in English class and pretty much everyone else wrote, 'and that's how so in so blew away in the wind.' It's been really windy here, so that was the theme, 'wind'. I kinda took my story to another level...oops. Well? Here it is! Oh! And it takes place in like the 17th century.


kay, this is an English assignment I went overboard on and really liked it, so here it is!

It's been really windy where I live, so my class had to write a journal on it, and most of everyone wrote the typical, "and that's how so in so blew away in the wind," where as a few of us actually wrote a story.

Twas a cool, stormy night. The wind blew the branches of my willow tree against my living room window, to make a 'tap...tap tap... tap' sound.

I sat in my brown, leather armchair, smoking my pipe and listening to the fire crackle against the wood- a typical night for me. Out of nowhere, a low, deep humming sound came from outside my lavishly decorated walls. It sent a shiver down my spine. I did not care much for it, so I sunk low into the plush cushions of my chair, trying to ignore the sound and put it out of my mind; however, the sound wouldn't drown out. Very suddenly, the humming turned into a shout, which yelled out into the blustery night.

"It will come," it howled, "tonight. Take this as a precautious warning- for the end of you shall surely come tonight." My eyes grew wide with shock and horror.

"Who a-art thou?" I questioned with a distasteful tone, worried sick to the bone for my well being.

"You, James Sydney, shall perish. When the clock strikes its time, is when the hour executes its crime."

"W-why? Why m-me? And do I not d-deserve the luxury of k-knowing WHEN?" I stuttered out, shameful tears falling down my reddening cheeks one after the other.

"All have their end. None live forever. Well, except for," it hesitated.

"Except? For WHO? Who IS this immortal being that can bombard its way through inconsequential death? It sounds dastardly! Evil!" I pushed, slowly slipping off the expensive armchair and onto my knees on the foreign-made carpet.

"And who are you? Pitiful human, to ask me of MY knowledge? I am FAR superior to your race. For I, oh yes, I, live forever; watching the generations pass by as if nothing. I have seen achievement after achievement, failure after failure, life after life and death after death. I am immortal- I am pure, prefect even.

"I may not be able to control one's life, but I CAN control one's death. So, later tonight, I will come to take your soul- to deprive this world of your presence.

"Not that anyone will miss it. You have no one- the only persons you have are your enemies- but all are your enemies- for you take from all. You were orphaned, and as the age at which you could leave approached, you planned. And after you had quickly departed, you went looking for a fortune, one which you found outstandingly fast, as a banker. Oh yes James. You took from all- rich and poor- and kept it for yourself. While your riches flowed in in vast amounts, your honour, dignity and loved flowed out just as quickly.

"You never once fell in love. You, dear James Sydney, are the perfect example of a sad, pitiful being, lonely and cruel, venom dripping for your satisfied lips, drowning all in your ocean of despair."

I grew tired of this old creature's game. I thought to myself, 'arrogance,' as he rambled on about my 'terrible' life. What need was in of love? Yet, his words still rang in my mind, settling themselves into my conscience. Was my life REALLY THAT despicable?

"I...I despise you, whomever or, more like, whatever you are," I croaked out. His words moved me deeply, and I did not like the message it sent to me.

It was true, I was just a mortal human, nothing more, rotting away with my riches, and no one to share them with.

I was a middle aged man at the time, and now that I look back, I guess that I should've taken the mysterious voice's words to heart. I am in the process of wasting away, turning into dust, and I could have lived a happy life. But, how, you might ask, did I survive that night? Well, let me explain, word for word.

Later that night, I slipped into my silk bed covers and pulled them up just under my chin.

"I don't have to worry now," I thought, tucking a knife under my pillow, just in case of someone actually trying to kill me.

As I was drifting off to sleep, I heard a loud 'creak' which had awaken me from my doze. I reached for my knife as I saw a hooded figure approach me.

"Leave me!" I shouted, pointing the blade out in front of my person. Suddenly, the figure disappeared into the night's shadows. 'At last,' I pondered, 'I am alone, never to be harmed. For I am perfect, despite that being's words. That being is a damnation to the world-a disgrace. How DARE he accuse me of my sins, for he has lived far longer than me; therefore, committing far more crimes than me.' I inwardly smirked at my mental rant, believing that I was right. However, a snide voice from the darkness pulled me out of my pompous mind and into reality.

"Hardly," it said, its haughty words interfering with my my own.

"Thy words make as much sense as a blubbering fool's," it said, smirking at my apparent fear.

Suddenly, I had an idea- stall this creature, and run far away so that my tracks will be covered with such great distance, that it will coward away with laziness.

"I can hear your thoughts you ass. I WILL track you down- for a fortnight's travel for a human is but a mere 10 seconds for me."

"Oh really? Well then," I said, taking a short breath, "will I at least get the pleasure of learning thy name?" I asked, waiting for something of the sort of, 'you do not deserve to know my name, human.' However, it said, "my name is Fate. Although many have taken the liking to 'Mr. Fate.' Either is satisfactory to me."

Oh the NERVE of this 'Mr. Fate' was a strong one to say the least. There was no doubt in my aggravated mind that didn't suggest that he wasn't hot headed.

"Well then, if you'd like, you may kill me. However," I said, beginning to play my OWN game with this fool, "there will be a price."

"Why? You will be dead! Oh, you stubborn man. Your stupidity will never cease to exist. But I guess with the doom that is coming to you, you no longer have the need of learning humility. I pity you, James Sydney. But alright, name your fine."

"I want to live another 50 years. After that time, to the minute even, you may kill me- you may 'come to take my soul, to deprive this world of my presence,'" I said imitating 'Mr. Fate.'

"I would not advise you to mock me, human. For I may just turn down your offer, and kill you right now. But since you have played my game well, I will take it. I will grant you another 50 years, for me to take it. Although I do warn you- if you should find yourself in a nasty situation, do not come running to me. For it is not MY fault if you cause yourself trouble. That is all part of your doing. So be careful. Also, the years to come will be anxious ones. You will constantly be worrying about death, and not enjoying your days to come. Good day." And with that, Mr. Fate took off into the night, vanishing into gloomy night sky.

And so I lived my other 50 years. Devouring more and more wealth with every waking minute that passed by. I only found myself in a bad scenario once or twice, and each time, got myself out of it with grace and ease.

But Mr. Fate was correct about one thing- I did grow lonely, and through my loneliness grew restlessness. I became old and tired, sick and weak, pitiful and even more disagreeable.

Eventually, I found that the only constant in my life was the fact that money poured into my hands faster than water. Though, I still didn't care. I was rich- and to me that was all that mattered. Every day, I'd look out my grand view window and past my vast amounts of estate, and barely manage to see a poverty-stricken town; but sadly, I would be caring too much about the quality of my silk night gowns or what I would be wearing to 'Her Majesty's Grand Ball' to take notice of the predicament.

One day, my accountant told me that the village could no longer pay their taxes, and had no more money to pay to me, so they were all leaving town. I wasn't really paying attention when he told me, so when the people under my jurisdiction left, I felt very...empty inside.

The way I dealt with the problem? I went upstairs to my bedroom, laid down on my giant mattress, and took a 'luxurious nap.'

Eventually, I got help from the Royal family and Parliament to herd my minions (as I had came to call the brats) back into my area of London, where I had spent a whole 10 pounds and 3 shillings to open up a pub at which the rent was extremely high. However, the money from the rent all went to me, and fortunately, my 'minions' were all happy about it because it gave jobs to those who greatly needed it.

As the years I had left counted down, I grew restless, just waiting for my moment to die. I always seemed to take the situation for granted, as if that night had been but a dream. However, somewhere sunk deep in my mind, I couldn't get Mr. Fate's voice out of my worrisome mind- was that night part of reality? Could such a strange being possibly exist? For many a year I thought not, however, as my last few years counted down, I started to forget Mr. Fate, and before long, the only memory I had of him was that he was a stickler for time, death, and to him, humility.

As the months washed away, I learned to be at peace with Mr. Fate, accepting him as just a myth to me. I always just thought, 'if he's real, he's real. If he's make believe, then he is so.' I also wondered about my money more often, thinking about where all of it would all go after I had passed- would it float up to the beyond with me? Or would it stay down here on Earth, while I burn in hell in consequence for the sins I'd committed in my life? It mattered a great deal to me, for I did not want to face the humiliation of not being able to buy expensive clothes when I'm deceased.

As the days wasted away, I repeatedly felt bored, wondering what death would be like. Would it be painful, or would it simply be like falling asleep and waking up to see all of the souls whose bodies had perished long ago? It didn't really matter to me anymore, because lately, I had been denying the existence of Mr. Fate. I had been in the mindset that I'd wake up to the morn of '50 years, 1 day,' without a single care in the world, and going on to collect more taxes, like any other day.

As the minutes ticked away, I was in a sense of panic, my leg bouncing up and down from anxiety. I would glance at the large grandfather clock hanging upon my wall every few seconds or so, waiting for the inevitable to happen. I had a terrible feeling in the pit of my gut, telling me that Mr. Fate was real. If things weren't like the way they were, I might've felt differently; however, the scene of the night was quite like the one 50 years before, a raging wind blowing outside of my mansion, and the 'pitter patter' of rain against my large window panes. The willow tree that had grown immensely larger through the time was once again 'tap...tap tap...tapping' against the wet windows, much like it had before. I sunk low into my leather armchair that had worn considerably through the years, not wanting to accept reality at the moment. Suddenly, the low tune of Mr. Fate's death howl came from outside again, sending me straight up in the air at what felt about 145 meters.

"P-please, I have done nothing wrong! Let me live! I have l-lived anything but peacefully t-these 50 years!" I cried, clasping my hands together to beg.

"I told you that you would worry, and that it's not MY problem, so get over yourself you blubbering idiot!" Mr. Fate screamed.

A loud crack came from over where my windows were, and through my watery eyes, I noticed that Mr. Fate had broken a window and was now quickly approaching me. A hooded cloak covered him, and I only saw his body from the torso down. He looked the same way he did the night in my sleeping quarters, not even to have aged a day. It was quite remarkable actually.

"S-so, you really are immortal?" I asked, now in complete disbelief that that was possible.

"Obviously," he said with that snide accent of his.

"Before I die, let me ask you- what do you look like?" I questioned, actually curious to know.

"Would you like to see?"

"Y-yes," I stammered, imagining what he could possibly look like.

Ever so slowly, he lowered his hood, revealing blue-black hair that reached just passed his shoulders, and fair skin. As he raised his head, I took notice that he had fine features, icy blue eyes, a prominent nose, and not quite full lips. He didn't smile, only smirked, as if displaying his thoughts without a voice, however still snidely.

"Well then, you have seen me. It is now my turn," Mr. Fate said. He reached out his hand to me, which I hesitantly took, and when I did, I felt myself being pulled off the ground remarkably fast, and my vision blurred, turning the world black. Although, the feeling wasn't bad in any way- it was actually quite calming. It was inviting, and I accepted its embrace with open arms.

When I awoke, I found myself sitting in my office chair, in my study. I saw a bright light outside, so I labeled the light as 'daylight', like any rational being would. I was quite confused, so I stood up and pushed open my doors, revealing a remarkable sight.

Many people were laughing and enjoying each others company. I didn't expect to have people come up and invite me to join, but however, I was. I quite liked being in a conversation about something other than myself and money.

I felt a sense of humility wash over me, and I quite liked it. It was nothing like I'd ever experienced before, and I accepted the feeling freely.

As I sat in the sunlight, enjoying the presence of others, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I leaned my head back to see Mr. Fate, smiling down upon me as if saying, 'you should've listened to me the first time, you stupid human,' a statement which I totally agreed on.

"Mr. Fate, what a pleasant surprise it is to see thee!" I exclaimed, leaping up to hug the man I loathed so much before.

"Ah, dear James Sydney. Isn't it though?" he said, reciprocating the gracious hug.

"You were right, Mr. Fate. I should've listened. Instead, I was stupid; selfish in the utmost way," I said, pulling away from the being's embrace.

"Well, what matters most is that you're here- enjoying what is rightfully yours," Mr. Fate humbly said.

"'Tis true, Mr. Fate, 'tis true. And I humbly apologize for the rude behavior I gave you, it was terribly wrong of me. Do forgive me," I pleaded.

"Of course, James Sydney. 'Twas not your fault- all humans do it. It's in their nature. They cannot help it."

As I stared into Mr. Fate's icy eyes, I felt at peace with the world, accepting that all was right, and that Mr. Fate, was not, after all, the despicable being I'd imagined him to be.

He was pure, perfect even- and to tamper with such a being is highly disgraceful, and now that I had accepted his presence, I knew that, and I swore to myself, that I would always embrace Mr. Fate not as the old foe I used to consider him as, but as the new friend I will now consider him as.


End file.
